Too Good To Be True
by shmiley
Summary: One-shot. Maggy goes on a blind date, but she gets stood up. In her anger, she punches a kind man with green eyes that just wants to help. In the end, she feels she owes him a date. Not really romance, just debts being paid. Pre-series.


A/N: I absolutely despise fanfictions with an original character, yet here I am. I wrote this for english, and it had to include the perfect date. Dumb, right? I figured that I might as well turn it into a fanfiction, so it'd be more fun to write. Anyways, I had lots of fun writing this, and I don't hate Maggy. There's no romance, just Maggy and Dean getting to know each other.

* * *

I stood in front of the mirror, staring myself in the eyes as I tried to prepare myself for my date. Dating had never really been my thing, too much talking and getting to know others and _talking_. The fact that I hadn't even met the guy made matters worse. My best friend, Jamie, had taken pity on my and my lack of a social life and had set me up on a blind date, of all things. She told me that Jacob was a great guy, and that we would get along swimmingly. Fat chance.

My sister liked to tell me that I'm intimidating, and that I sent guys running away, screaming. Honestly, I didn't blame them. It's kind of hard to look into someone's eyes when they're almost pitch black. One guy I dated had the guts to compare them to black holes that will suck you in if you stare for too long. I knocked him into next week. My hair was cut short in a pixie cut, the brown tips dyed red. I was short and densely built, all thick bones and muscle. And, to my wimp of a sister's everlasting shame, I had an abnormal fondness of leather. Just like dad.

I was to meet Jacob in some rinky-dink diner, which was a relief. I didn't really do dresses or fancy restaurants. Sighing, I pulled a thick sweater over my button-down shirt and walked out of my room. Running a hand through my short hair, I slipped on my leather jacket and grabbed my keys. I was out of the front door in a flash, walking swiftly down the street.

The February night air was chilly, and I drew my jacket closer to my body with a shudder. It was only six o'clock, but the sun was already sinking below the horizon, and a few flakes of snow danced in the air. The date was at seven, but the diner was a mile away and dusk was my favorite time of the day. Slowing down, I looked up at the sky, appreciating the grey-blue clouds of an approaching blizzard. I let out a breath and watched as the steam rose into the air, billowing out into a cloud above me, like smoke from the mouth of a dragon.

I made it into the diner at 7:05. Looking around, I saw no one that matched Jamie's description of Jacob. Shrugging, I made my way to an empty booth in the back corner. I sat with my back to the wall and kept my eyes steadfastly fixed on the door. I could feel someone's eyes on me, which I elected to ignore.

Seconds stretched into minutes, which slowly expanded to ten, then fifteen, then thirty. I ground my teeth in frustration and anger. The jerk had stood me up! I clenched my hands, trying to keep them from shaking. When I got my hands on that punk… He was going to cry for his mommy. Already imagining my revenge, I slid out of my seat and… Ran into someone.

"Sorry," I grumbled, looking up past a stubbly jaw, full lips, and a freckled nose and cheeks to his wide green eyes. He flashed me a smile, and I hesitantly smiled back. Clearing my throat, I made to step around him. He moved the same way and blushed. We both moved to the other side, perfectly in synch. Now things were getting awkward. I let out a small, embarrassed laugh as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

"So, um, I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting alone, and you looked kinda upset. I was gonna ask-"

"I'm fine," I interrupted, smiling, hiding the fact that my patience wearing thin. All I wanted was to get out of there. He shook his head slowly, seeing right through my lie. I could tell I would have to use some of my… charms to get him to leave me alone.

"Look, let me get you-" he broke off as my fist met his abnormally attractive face. He stumbled back, hands flying up to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. Ah, yes, the charm of a fist to the face.

"Back off, pretty boy," I snarled, angry at being stood up, angry at being this upset over a _date_, angry at this moron who thought he could sweet talk his way into a date. _Nuh-uh, sugar. Not gonna happen,_ I thought spitefully. Spinning on my heel, I stormed out the door, trying to get my bloodlust under control. Hunching my shoulders, I set off down the street, cold air burning my lungs.

"Hey! Wait!" I turned and saw the creep from the diner. Groaning, I waited, preparing myself to punch him in the face again. He jogged up to me, face still slightly smeared with blood.

"What do you want?" I snapped, irritated with this whole situation. He grinned sheepishly, and he was once again rubbing the back of his neck. _Nervous habit_, I thought, and for some reason, I found it to be strangely endearing. He looked like the kind of guy that would be cocky and self-assured, and there was something pleasantly surprising at being able to make him squirm.

"Look, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he began, eyeing my hands to see if I was going to punch him again. Just to make him a little nervous, I clenched my hands into fists, and his eyes widened. "I, uh, figured you were here on a date, and they didn't show," he trailed off, and it seemed as though he found the ground to be _very _interesting. Smirking, I punched his shoulder and he flinched.

"S'alright," I said, beginning to feel bad for my overreaction, "I'm not really into the whole dating scene, and well, when my date didn't show, I guess I got really upset." I let out a breath, feeling my heart rate slow. "So when you said that you wanted to get me something, I thought you were trying to get a date out of me." I grinned at him. Hesitantly, he smiled, a slow, happy smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"So, you good?" he asked, real concern showing in his eyes. And, just because he was actually worried about me, I did something _really_ stupid.

I asked him on a date.

That was how I found myself back in the diner, talking amiably with this man. He was a real gentleman, he opened the door for me, took my coat, heck, I was pretty sure that he would've pulled my chair out for me if we hadn't sat in a booth. I smiled a little at the thought. Gentlemen were hard to come by.

"So what's your name?" he asked, because, of course, you need to know your date's name.

I frowned, my name was kind of embarrassing. "Promise you won't make fun of me?" I asked, just to make sure. The amount of times I had to cut a date short because they couldn't stop laughing at my name was ridiculous. His eyebrows rose, scrunching up his forehead in an annoyingly cute manner.

"Pinky promise." He held out his pinky with an absolutely serious look on his face. Laughing, I linked my finger with his and shook.

"Margaret." I braced myself for laughter, giggles, a snort, _anything_, but he just studied me. "What?" I asked defensively, sending my best death glare at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Nothing, it's just, you don't really look like a Margaret." I groaned and thunked my head against the back of the booth.

"My dad really wanted two boys; a tough, older brother and a smart, emotional younger one. Sadly, he got me and my older sister." I explained, making a face at my father's dumb stereotypes. The man grimaced, and I guessed he had experience in that department.

"What's your sister's name?" he asked.

I snorted. "Jackie." I didn't bother to hold back the bitterness in my voice. Jackie got a nice, tough name, while I got freaking _Margaret_. Give me a cup of tea and a parasol and I just _might_ fit my ridiculously girly name. "I was always jealous of Jackie. Good, strong name. But she's the girly one in my family. She's crazy over the share and care stuff." I cleared my throat, "Anyways, what's your name?" I was tired of talking about myself, and it had only been ten minutes. He pursed his lips, and for a moment I thought he wasn't going to tell me his name. Like I would let that happen. No way was I staying here with some weirdo who wouldn't even tell me his name.

"Dean," he said with a cocky smile, like he expected me to fall to the floor and worship him. Instead, I raised an eyebrow.

"That's it?" I asked, hardly believing it for a moment. He was so smooth and suave, and he had a bland name like Dean? Highly unlikely.

"Hey, you can't control what your parents name you, _Margaret_." I blushed.

"Touche." We were saved from an awkward silence by the waitress coming by for our orders. He smiled at me and told me to go ahead, and to order whatever I wanted. Stubbornly, I asked for the cheapest thing on the menu: a cheeseburger.

"Ah, a woman after my own heart," he chuckled, and ordered the same thing. He added a please at the end, and sent the waitress a kind smile. I was relieved, people who were jerks to the waitress were a no-go for me. A condescending attitude was just so… _unappealing_. The waitress walked off, and Dean's gaze was back on me; intense green eyes meeting black, letting me know I had his full attention.

"What's your family like?" I asked, desperately avoiding the topic of _me_.

Dean winced. "Ah, I'd really rather not talk about it." He gave me a hopeful smile, as though I would just leave it there. I shook my head.

"Nuh-uh. I told you about my dad, my wuss of a sister, and my awful name. I'm pretty sure that means that you have to answer a couple of my questions." I stared him down until he nodded.

"My dad was a lot like yours, I guess. Big, strong older son; smart and capable younger son."

"I'm guessing you're the big bro?"

Dean nodded. "My little brother, man, there's nothing I wouldn't do for the kid. I'd sell my soul for him in a heartbeat." He gave me a crooked smile.

"What's he like?"

"He's a pain in my butt," Dean laughed. "The kid's a handful, I'll tell ya that. He's real smart, though, just like Dad wanted. Got a full ride to college." Dean's smile turned wistful. "Haven't seen him in a few years."

"Why not?"

"He and my dad had a falling out. Things were said, doors were slammed shut, figuratively and literally." Dean shrugged. "I get the feeling that my little brother doesn't want me around. Went to college to escape Dad, me, our job…" I shook my head.

"You're his family," I said, "And from what I've seen tonight, I have no idea why he wouldn't want you around." Dean looked surprised at my praise, but quickly accepted it.

"You're not too bad yourself," he said, chuckling, "After you get past the whole, you know, tough girl _I'm gonna beat you with a spoon_ act."

"It is not an act!" I said, indignant. Dean just smirked at me knowingly. I guess we were a lot more alike than I realized.

The rest of the night passed quickly, in a blur of laughter and surprisingly meaningful conversation. I told Dean things I had never told anyone, and in turn, he opened up to me. It was wonderful, completely and absolutely _perfect_. I wished that I could grab onto time like it was some corporeal thing, hold it in place, and just enjoy this night a little bit more.

At the end of our night, Dean walked me home. We chatted a little, but it was mostly silent, finding comfort in the other's presence. We reached my apartment building as it was nearing eleven, and we just stood outside, neither of us knowing what to say. I shuffled my feet while Dean cleared his throat.

"It was, uh, nice meeting you," he said, voice stuffy from his swollen nose. A half smile crept onto my face. Taking the initiative, I swooped in for a hug, wrapping my arms around his waist. After a moment, his arms settled on my shoulders. He rested his chin upon my head, and I smiled.

"Thanks for making tonight worthwhile," I said honestly, "Also, thanks for not being a total creep." He huffed out a laugh and pulled away. "Bye, Dean." I waved as he turned around.

"See ya later, Maggy." I snorted at the nickname and watched as he made his way down the street. Once he was out of sight, I breathed out a happy sigh and let myself into my apartment. Mulling the night's events over, I realized what I had just been on. _The perfect date_. It was almost too good to be true, yet here I was, smiling when I thought of Dean. I flopped onto my couch, humming while I thought of a voice like a purring engine and eyes that crinkled when he smiled. I turned the news on, and tuned out, lost in my own world.

When I glanced glanced over at the clock, I realized it was nearly one. I had spent over an hour mooning over Dean. Pathetic. I stood up and prepared to turn off the TV, but what I saw made my heart stop and my blood run ice-cold.

There was a manhunt going on for someone suspected of murder. A caucasian male, mid-twenties. A man with wide green eyes, freckles, a knowing smirk, and a slightly haunted look about him. I had just gone on a date with a murderer. _I knew it was too good to be true_, I thought, as my world dimmed and I fainted for the first time in my life.


End file.
